Page 51 of Return To You

“How did you get my mug?” I ask Kiara.

She fusses with her signature pink boxes, arranging them on the console, moving mugs around to make more space. “Dark chocolate is required in times of crisis. Helps with heart rate and mood and even cognitive—”

“How did you get my mug?” I repeat louder.

“Well they better not stain the armchairs,” Claudia mumbles, setting more cocktail napkins throughout the spa.

“How did you get—”

“Colton,” she says as if that’s an answer. Then she hugs me and looks me in the eye. “Good to know it’s still your mug and also that you’re not throwing it in my face.”

“Why would I do that?”

She lifts her shoulders. “Eh… the jury was out. After last night.”

Can I please get a break? “I don’t want to hear about Ethan and Amy at the Growler,” I snap.

Claudia, out of napkins, grabs a dusting cloth and runs it haphazardly on perfectly clean surfaces.

Kiara frowns. “The fuck are you talking about?”

Oh.

“Your brother drove a weeping Ethan back home last night,” Kiara continues. “From Lazy’s. Where he was very much alone and totally getting on everyone’s nerves.”

“Weeping?”

“The dude version of weeping. Drunk and talking in circles about you.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh please.”

Kiara shrugs. “Who cares anyway?”

Claudia stops her dusting. “I’m with Kiara. We have bigger problems to solve than… men. And that’s saying something.”

“Agreed,” I say. And still, holding the mug with Ethan’s handwriting on it makes me… all fuzzy and warm. Close second to the knowledge that he spent the evening and the night alone.

“Girl, we’re going to need you to focus,” Kiara says, snapping me out of my dreamy state. “We do not want to lose the spa.”

“You’re going to have to tell us what to do,” Claudia agrees, and checks her watch. “Fifteen minutes. Oops, here they come!”

I glance outside, expecting to see the realtor with one or two people. Instead, I see a line of cars pulling alongside the curb, my girlfriends coming out with cousins, sisters, mothers, daughters. Others are arriving by foot.

A loving mob is marching down on A Touch Of Grace, Alex leading them.

While Claudia holds the door open for them, Alex takes three steps up the staircase, then calls everyone to attention. Claudia closes the door and keeps an eye out for the realtor.

“Listen up!” Alex says. “We don’t have time to brainstorm, so here’s what we’re going to do right now. You’re to pretend this is an open house, you’re serious buyers, but you’ve already either noticed or heard from reliable sources that this house has problems. Think leaking roof, black mold, ancient plumbing.” She turns to me. “Any real problems we should throw in there?”

I point to my chest. “The tenant doesn’t pay her rent on time.” Total lie, like the rest.

Alex makes a sad face. “The bad news is, from my intel, the people visiting in… a few minutes, are looking for a place for them to move into. As a home.”

Shit. That means they can break the lease. “There are rotten planks on the deck that broke three weeks ago?” That might not deter a buyer. “Makes the case for deferred maintenance,” I venture.

“Good point, let’s lean on that,” Alex says, then claps her hands. “Alright everyone! Now please spread out and play the part. Remember that you do not know one another, and you do not know Grace. The buyers are flatlanders.” She steps down to my level and adds for me, “We’ll deal with the realtor later.”

“I could sue you for this,” he tells me once his buyers and my friends are gone. His face is red and sweaty.

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